


The Beginning of the End

by sparklight



Series: Iliou Persis [3]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, The Iliad - Homer
Genre: Angst, Background Apollo/Hyacinthus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Background Hebe/Hercules | Heracles (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Trojan War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25089949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: Ganymede is not in place to serve during the meetings in that last year of the war - how early did he get relieved of his task, and how did it happen? Apollo does what he can to soften the stress of the building conflict, but he's burdened by the knowledge of how inevitable it all is, and can only do so much.
Relationships: Apollo & Ganymede (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Series: Iliou Persis [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789012
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21





	The Beginning of the End

The war - in a couple hundred years, a thousand and even far more than that, it'd be known as the Trojan War, as part of the _Epic Cycle_ , but right now it was just the war. The war for Helen, the war against Troy, the war of the Achaean league against the coastal Luwian lands in Asia Minor - had been going for a handful of years. Long enough to already be devastating, but for as little as it affected the day-to-day life of anyone on Olympos, the whole thing was rather momentous in how irrelevant it was. Ganymede didn't do anything differently than he'd been doing for over a century by now, and the realization that it'd been that long had, at first, been more startling honestly, and yet the details crept into everything. During Zeus' meetings with Themis he was more often than not gently shepherded out after first pouring the two divinities their nectar or wine, and as annoying as that was, Ganymede was grateful. It also made him wonder when it'd first happened, and thinking back, he realized then that the first time it had happened had been well before Thetis’ wedding. Had they known even then, that the war would be happening? If so, he hoped their conversation had been about how to avoid it, or at least lessen its impact.

He didn't dare ask, mostly because he wasn't sure if he could face the truth just yet.

Ganymede rather wished he could escape the council meetings much like he was left out of those private meetings between Zeus and Themis, but this was his part of his position, the function inextricably tied up in it. He couldn't imagine asking to be freed of the task. Still, the meetings also showed the effect of the war; Hestia no longer attended them. Dionysos had become, for the time being, a permanent part of the meetings instead of switching off with the gentle goddess. He was glad for her even if she could, surely, have added a voice of calming reason. Her absence unfortunately also made each meeting a little more difficult to deal with.

Yet, for all that, the whole thing had started in such a way that Ganymede had thought it might be over before it even began. 

It'd been kind of funny even, in a way. Funny in a terrible, awful, black humour sort of way, thanks to how many people had died because of it. The Achaeans had sailed _straight past Troy_ in their first attempt at assaulting the city. Straight past it, past Dardanos, up along the whole Hellespont in fact! Then a little further than that, too. Teuthrania had suffered in Troy's stead, and Ares had made some probably not quite politic (but amusing) comments about the Achaeans' sense of tactics, strategy and basic knowledge of geography and sense of direction. Athena had been displeased, to say the least. Zeus had rebuked Ares, but even he had, briefly, been smirking.

The Achaeans had sailed back - _all_ the way back, once again sailing straight past Troy, and Ganymede could scarce believe it seeing the farce repeat itself on the way back, but it had. It left the Achaeans to lick their wounds and wounded pride both, and Hera and Athena were quiet for a little while. Quiet for long enough Ganymede had relaxed, despite the hints he probably should've paid attention to.

Five years.

Five years, and Ganymede foolishly thought that maybe Athena and Hera would be satisfied with their sacked city, though it wasn't the right one, and even made a joking comment or two to Hebe about the Achaeans sailing _straight past Troy_ in that time. Then the Achaeans mustered again, if not without troubles, and this time they had a guide. This time, after they'd attacked Tenedos, they found the way to Troy.

Luckily they were repelled from the shore, though maybe all of this would have been so much easier to deal with if they'd managed to land then, managed to breach Troy's walls soon after that and leave with Helen. If they'd managed that at that point, maybe things wouldn't have been as bad as they became later. Instead they scattered along the coast, raiding cities doggedly. For _years_ , back and forth, harassing a countryside that did not have much of anything to do with the abduction of Helen or with Troy, amassing much wealth that was sent back every now and then. Ganymede wouldn't know it yet, but those interminable years of the Achaeans raiding the countries along the coast and repeatedly attempting to land on a beach close enough to Troy to make assault and siege practical, would be the kindest years of this whole ordeal. For him, anyway, though he would never admit to it, because they were certainly not years kind to any of the people who lived in Arzawa, Lukka, Seha and the surrounding countries. The Hellespont was locked down by Troy and Dardanos, so at the very least the people beyond were spared. It was a bleak comfort.

Six years into the raiding, Ganymede was growing more and more on edge. The whole thing was dragging, seemingly eternal, and yet he'd come to understand it might last years more from here. For the first time since very early on since he'd been brought to Olympos, Ganymede felt each year, every month, sometimes weeks, as discrete, heavy chains, uncomfortably aware of how much (or little) time was passing. Yet nothing happened. Not to _Troy_ , anyway, and as much as a relief as it was that nothing kept happening, it seemed to be something that couldn't hold. Somewhere, something had to give, surely, and be all the worse for the time it’d taken. Why weren't the Achaeans giving up? Did they really want to waste years more for the eventual and yet only probable prize?

"How long do you intend to insult the offense I and Athena have been paid, Zeus?"

There it was.

Ganymede suppressed a sigh and tried to shut out Hera's voice while he left his spot behind Zeus to top up Artemis' kylix. He'd never minded his task, and even when the council meetings were chilly affairs or outright fighting happened it'd never made him regret having to be here. These past couple years, though... Every single word from Queen Hera, Athena and sometimes Poseidon or Ares, when he wasn't at trying to cheer on Aphrodite as subtly as he could, about the current business with Troy dug in deep, like the thorns of a rose bush breaking off in his skin and lodging there.

In the beginning he’d been able to let it all wash off his back, barely aware of what had been said, for he didn't care to know the details. It was getting harder and harder to do that, which was a problem when Athena and Hera were both determined to not let it go. Trying to ease his grip on the decanter as he poured for Artemis, Ganymede closed his eyes as Zeus spoke up and wished he could be elsewhere.

"Insult, my dear? I am doing nothing." Zeus sounded so nonchalantly sincere it might have been amusing in another situation.

"Nothing? You are forcing us to work for every city taken, and none of them is the one we want," Hera said, voice biting and the words like a prickle of snake poison down Ganymede's back. Carefully, he righted his decanter and handed the kylix back as he smiled at Artemis. She tipped her head in thanks, but he looked away before he could meet her eyes.

"I will not give Troy up so easily, Hera, to you or our Acheans. They will land for a siege when it is time, and not a moment before."

It should be reassuring, that Zeus didn't want Troy destroyed. It should be reassuring that he was dragging this out, but so many people were still dying in the meantime. It should be reassuring, but it was not, for the Achaeans being allowed to siege Troy was apparently still happening, sooner or later. Zeus was not, or at the very least couldn’t, be on Troy’s side. Not in anything but the desire of it. Ganymede counted his steps across the floor, past the hearth in the center of the oval ring the thrones made around it, and tried not to think or listen, but the words kept trickling back in. It was happening, and more than that, there was apparently a time frame. Was that the only reason it was being dragged out? He didn't want to think so, for he knew Zeus genuinely favoured Troy, but that hadn't stopped any of this from happening, and Zeus would not stop Hera and Athena from helping the Achaeans. Ganymede wished he would, but Athena was one of his favourites and he was terribly indulgent of her, and his wife he would deny very little when it came down to it. He knew this. But why did he have to talk about a _time frame_? It burrowed into the back of his mind, callous and unyielding, fitting in alongside other little comments made through the years since this had started. Ganymede watched his hands tremble, just a fine shiver of it, as he took Ares' kylix.

Just fill it. He could do that. He'd done that many of times. Uncounted times, even. It was not hard.

"And that should be _when_? This has been unconscionably dragged out! You kept us waiting just for the apple to be awarded, only for insult to then be dealt---"

"It was justly given, Queen Hera. Privilege of position isn't everything." Aphrodite's voice was a sweet bell even when it was haughtily pointed, but it screeched down his spine like the tip of a knife made ice cold, and Ganymede yanked his jug upright before he spilled, practically shoving the half-full kylix back at Ares, who took it with a startled, annoyed look. It barely made him feel guilty, but he did feel slightly ashamed for being unable to do what he was supposed to.

"I'm sorry, my lord," Ganymede said, intending to whisper but heard himself loud and clear, echoing through the hall. It was followed by the dull clank of silver on gold as he put the jug down on the empty armrest of Ares' throne and sped past him, down the two steps of the dais, then across the last bit of floor and out of the council hall, flinching at Zeus' voice calling him but unable to stop.

He didn't even know why he felt like he was going to throw up, for nothing that had been said during this meeting hadn't, really, been said before. It was all merely variations on a theme while the Achaeans raided the Luwian coast again and again.

###### 

"Ganymede!" Zeus' voice rolled like thunder as he flew to his feet, and Apollo, distracted and having been ignoring the proceedings until he'd heard Ganymede's... one couldn't call it an outburst, because it hadn't been, but his startling retreat, was called back to here and now. Also happened to be staring between Hera and Poseidon's thrones right then and saw Hera in the edge of his vision, a faint, pleased curl to her lips. It was massively petty, but maybe it was to be expected that she take out her frustration in some manner, and Ganymede... Well, in this he was the softer target, even if both Zeus and Apollo treasured Troy for similar and different reasons. She would get a lot of worth out of this when it came to Ganymede's pain, and since that one attempt during their coup to get at him, she’d never tried to harm him physically again. Probably never would, but with this she did not need to.

Apollo stood up with a small grimace twisting his lips and leaned in towards his father. He laid a hand on his arm as he stretched up the little distance needed, lowering his voice at the same time.

"Let me go tell Hebe she needs to step in, if only for today. I'll go talk to him." He'd been thinking of leaving early anyway, further thinking up any number of potential excuses to minimize his presence at these meetings until this whole thing was over, for it was getting tiresome. He might yet need to be present for damage control, however. It was hard to know which urge to follow, when in the end it didn't matter. It didn't matter, for death would be the result; endless amounts of it. And he didn't care so much - humans died, that's what mortals did - except it was being dragged out, and many of the cities hit were ones that were important to him, Artemis and Leto. Troy itself, too, was definitely important. 

But it was necessary, all this death, and where it would most likely end was, if not necessary then at least very probably unavoidable thanks to Hera and Athena and Paris' unfortunate choice. 

He already knew this, much like Zeus did, and he rather wished he had restrained himself when Cassandra had asked for the gift of prophecy. If he had just refused it, she would not be suffering right now, but he'd also half thought putting the condition on it that he had would dissuade her. It hadn’t. If she only had let it, he would certainly have missed the chance to express his desire and affection for her, but she would be none the wiser of the future. Now, neither of them had what they wanted and Cassandra was suffering in similar wise to Ganymede, though with more precise knowledge of what was to come. And what could he do about that? Nothing. She should have known better than to go back on her promise, as there were very few ways he had available to nullify the gift he'd given her, and he'd been hurt, too. She was now suffering twice from that whole affair. 

So few things he could do anything about, lately. 

Looking past the thrones towards the door, closed now after Ganymede had stormed out, Apollo had at least one thing he could do something about. Something that mattered, however small of a thing that it was. Apollo looked up to meet Zeus' troubled, stormy gaze, and smiled tightly. They both knew this would get worse, so terribly more worse. Even after it got better it wouldn't really _be better_. The light of Aeneas' star was small in comparison to the growing darkness it was trying to light up.

"Do so. Tell her she will need to assist at council meetings for the next couple years."

Honestly, someone ought to have thought of doing this switch earlier, even if Ganymede was very good at hiding his feelings about something until he cracked.

"As you wish, Father," Apollo murmured and swept out of the council hall, briefly touching Artemis' shoulder in passing and giving Hera a narrow, bland smile. This would not really deprive her of seeing Ganymede's pain; there would be more of that, unfortunately, and probably a lot of it. It was unavoidable and inevitable.

That didn't mean Hera's chances to glut on it couldn't be diminished. She would not seek him out and taunt him, after all. Not Ganymede. She'd take the glances, she'd be satisfied just knowing all of this was causing very understandable distress. It was lucky the need for this hadn't come around as early as when Ganymede's direct family was still alive. This was bad enough; the boy was as attached to Troy as any of them were to their own favourite cities, and clung to it for yet more personal reasons. It was a pity he could not have let go in the... what? at least a century? Something like that, since he'd been taken to Olympos. Perhaps that was why Zeus hadn't even offered the chance for brief visits aside from giving in to let Ganymede say goodbye to his father (and what turned out to be saying goodbye to his mother, as well); an attempt at gently disentangling him from his homeland, so any possible future tragedy wouldn't hurt as much. It clearly hadn't worked well enough. A pity, if only for the pain it would, was, causing the youth.

Shaking his head, Apollo paused, blinking as he looked around. He was in the wrong part of the palace. Apparently he'd been more distracted than he'd thought, if he was standing in front of the doors that led to the rooms he and Artemis had lived in for a while after coming to Olympos, the rooms Ganymede now lived in. Turning away from the wing the royal apartments were in, a place he had very fond memories of but where he would no longer find Hebe, Apollo allowed himself a small sigh. Ganymede's pain was understandable, but it should not matter so much, for him or Zeus. They knew this was necessary, and cities were more than the current population inhabiting it at any given point in time.

And yet...

They got attached. They all did. That was as important as being aloof was natural, so the two urges were at an eternal tug-o-war.

Finally in the right part of the palace, Apollo knocked - and unfortunately it wasn't Hebe who opened the door and stepped aside to let him enter, or even one of the nymphs, but rather Herakles. Of course. They stared at each other, narrow-eyed and frowning, with Herakles nearly twice as broad as Apollo was, his skin still dark with a tan and a mortal life, though he was shorter than his fully divine half-brother. It didn't take anything away from the weight of his presence, which had only deepened and grown larger since he'd ascended to Olympos.

"Can I help you?" Herakles crossed his arms over his bare chest, arching an eyebrow, and Apollo looked down his nose at him.

"Hebe?" Raising his voice to call for her, Apollo raised his eyebrows and ignored Herakles' snort. He didn't need Herakles' assistance or permission to talk to his youngest half-sister. They might be married, but he hardly _owned her_. Perhaps he was being a shade unfair, but frankly, Apollo didn't give a flying fuck. He'd be as polite as he needed to be, and that was it.

"Apollo?" And there was Hebe, sweet as always, glancing between them with unsuspecting confusion. "What is it?"

"You're needed at the council," Apollo said, watching Hebe's thick, dark eyebrows fly up on her forehead, "today and for the next couple years."

"Ganymede---!"

"Is fine." Well. Not really. Apollo sighed, shaking his head. "He ran out, and Father should probably have thought to ask you to replace him a lot earlier than this, but he never seemed like he was upset about it before, so here we are."

"If the boy ran out, he's hardly fine. What's going on?"

Glancing over at Herakles, Apollo was reluctantly pleased to see the man looking genuinely concerned for Ganymede. Maybe that shouldn't be surprising given that Hebe and Ganymede had hardly stopped being friends just because she'd married Herakles, so he must be seeing him regularly. He’d certainly seen him even more regularly in the beginning, thanks to Hebe’s almost fearful ambivalence to her new husband and Ganymede’s wish to comfort her. So then, if Herakles cared at all about Hebe's happiness, he would care about Ganymede. Besides, who wouldn't be concerned with Ganymede's well-being as long as they weren't Hera and currently part of causing him his distress? Herakles, like anyone with a good set of eyes, some familiarity with the cupbearer's brightness and easy friendliness, as well as in possession of a dick, would be feeling at least somewhat well-disposed towards him.

If one actually knew Ganymede better than that, there was all the more reason to care.

"Nothing that hasn't been happing the last several years," Apollo said, waving the question away as Hebe slid in next to Herakles, forcing him to untangle his arms so he could wrap an arm around her shoulders. Apollo supposed he was glad to see her more comfortable with him, now. They were almost of a height, the two of them, with Herakles a nearly invisible hair taller. Which still of course made him short among the rest of the Deathless Ones, as impressive as his height had been among mortals. "But I assume it's reached a breaking point, and considering everything, it's better it's now rather than later."

"Because they _are_ going to end up laying to siege Troy, aren't they?" Hebe bit her lip, worrying a pinch of fabric from her dress between her fingers. Apollo just nodded, not saying any more about that. "I'll go, of course, but I should---"

"I'll talk to him, don't worry. You're needed at the council for now, but I'm sure he'd appreciate your company afterwards."

Hebe looked like she wanted to protest, but finally gave in with a sigh and nodded. Patted the huge hand on her shoulder and left, with Apollo trailing after her. 

She would understandably rather go find Ganymede, especially so when the function of the cupbearer, even more so partway into a council, really was only ceremonial. The gods could go without having their cups refilled. The problem was, it was a symbol. There was a point to the function, no matter how ceremonial and figurative the position was, and so a cupbearer should be present. Right now, that had to be Hebe.

At least this time Apollo knew where to go and didn't let his feet lead him astray as he walked over to Hestia's kitchen. With Dionysos currently on his throne at the council instead of Hestia, who had very pointedly said she was refusing to deal with this in an official capacity and was thus on an extended "break", Ganymede would have a place to retreat to. It meant he already wasn't alone, and Hestia could undoubtedly offer the support and warmth Ganymede might need right now, but that wasn't why Apollo had volunteered to go find him - well, aside from letting Zeus be assured _someone_ definitely knew where his distraught cupbearer had gone. 

In all honesty he had no comforting words to share. All he had was that he cared. About Ganymede, and about Troy specifically, as it was one of his cities and had been since its founding. 

He didn't particularly want to care at the moment, but he still did. The only thing that soothed was the fact that this was necessary; there was no way to change the course of it. That, however, would not be soothing to Ganymede, who wasn't one of the Deathless Ones in a way that would make the weight of _ananke_ matter enough that it made up for the suffering. He didn't have enough essence to feel the inevitable rightness of necessity. Though perhaps, even if he had, it wouldn't have mattered. It just barely mattered to and for Apollo.

When he strode into Hestia's kitchen, he found her leaned over the chair Ganymede was curled up in, her arms around Ganymede from behind. She looked up and smiled at him, whispering something in Ganymede's ear before she stepped away, allowing Apollo to snag the other chair and put it beside Ganymede's so he could sit down next to him. 

He did not sigh, nor rub his face. He did shift closer, lean in until his arm was pressing against Ganymede's. The boy didn't look up from where he was literally curled up against and around his knees, the chair large enough for him to do so, but he, too, shifted closer.

"I'm sorry."

He should answer immediately he knew, but instead Apollo turned his head to stare down at the curly crown of hair of Ganymede's bent head for a moment, baffled. 

"For _what_?"

"... For not continuing doing my task until the meeting was over?" Ganymede sounded as bewildered as Apollo had, and behind them Hestia snorted, weaving together with Apollo's own incredulity. He did not say _you are human, it's to be expected_ , and he didn't say _I'd be more concerned if you hadn't run out at some point_ , for even while both of those were true, they would not help anything at the moment. But really, Ganymede was still human, as immortal as he was, and this was his city it was about. His home town. Emotional outbursts about it when he'd grown up loved and safe really ought to be expected.

"I'm just surprised it took you this long," Apollo said, voice mild and his eyebrows arched. It was almost insulting the gesture was lost when Ganymede didn't look up. He squashed the vague annoyance and let the tight curl around himself that Ganymede was still locked in remind him both of why the youth was hard charmed and his own reason for being here. "You have shown exemplary resilience, Ganymede, I promise. Just because Troy itself hasn't yet been touched doesn't mean the rest of your homeland and its neighbours aren't being hit hard. It matters to you."

"But _should it_?" Ganymede looked up then, and while he wasn't, and clearly hadn't, been crying, his expression was a tight twist that did cruel things to his mouth and chin, lines that shouldn't be there at all on such a handsome face, and his eyes were wide and endless, but dark. Apollo was, for another startled moment, stunned again. This wasn't what he'd expected to be faced with. "No one I knew are still alive! You, and Zeus, and even Lady Leto and Artemis are---"

"Ganymede." Apollo turned the chair around so he could lean forward and half cover the slim youth, as short as he was in comparison to Apollo's slender height. He cradled Ganymede’s face between his hands and bent until their foreheads touched. Silencing that high, unhappy voice before he dug himself deeper in this state of mind. "Precious, darling Ganymede, you're human, if immortally so. That is your home. The literal rivers that feed the land and the people living off it has shared its essence with your bloodline, several times over, so why shouldn't you feel for it? Let me tell you a secret, Iliades."

Apollo sighed, closing his eyes against the piercing green, ocean-bright, river-still eyes, and knew this was the right thing to do, as little as he wished to open up the aching insides involved in this. So many prayers left unanswered, so many sacrifices made in vain, and more there would be. They were bleeding, some of them, in ways no human would be able to fathom, and it was always easier to close off and pretend to be uncaring. Of course that was just an ideal; Apollo was often left to the whims of his raging emotions and violent heart, but it also often worked to smother it in distant aloofness.

Graceful hands came to rest against his biceps and pulled Apollo back from his thoughts, though the pause seemed to have only done good for both settling Ganymede and luring him further to listen and not clam up around himself.

"Father treasures Troy as he does few cities, but he can't go to Hera for quite obvious reasons," Apollo said, allowing himself a snort and heard the tiniest, softest of agreeing noises from Ganymede and nodded. "Exactly so. And he's further trying not to burden you. Presumably he'd rather focus on burying anything else and distract you so both of you can enjoy yourselves. Both Artemis and I have had to console our mother since this started, and I am trying to give myself a cushion for later."

The hands on his arms stilled. Tightened, revealing they were far stronger than they looked, even if there was no compare to the Deathless Ones or a number of heroes born of divine parents.

"Later?" Ganymede's voice wavered briefly, and Apollo sighed. It'd been a calculated risk, even if Ganymede was undoubtedly aware this would last longer yet.

"Another five years, Ganymede."

That was about as much as he would - could - tell. The details weren't all set yet; necessity sketched out the path only roughly, and from here the only real points that glowed with the certainty of becoming was Aeneas' eventual fate, as well as that of Achilles'. And Achilles himself _could_ still turn his own fate around if he but abandoned the war, but as he was bent on everlasting glory and honour for himself, Apollo thought not. Well, that was his own business.

" _Five_ \---" The noise that slipped out was something like a vocal version of Ganymede's earlier expression. His shoulders shuddered, then stilled as he nodded slowly, rubbing their foreheads together.

"Five. Okay," Ganymede whispered, letting out a long, wavering sigh, "thank you."

It was nothing to thank him for, for if nothing else as the years went by, Ganymede might go from the relief of counting them down to the horror of awareness of what might still be left to happen within that diminishing time. But, that was later. Maybe for now it could offer something to weigh up against the interminable creep of endless assaults on the Luwian coastline.

Briefly hugging Ganymede closer, Apollo disentangled himself and let Hestia swoop in and take his spot, planting nectar and ambrosia in front of Ganymede now that he might be more amenable to distraction from his emotions. Hopefully there would be some way to distract him as much as possible in the coming years, to make sure he was as insulated from all that might happen as possible... Apollo didn't know. He also could not cling to this concern much longer than he already had and dropped it. He would do what he could, but for now he wandered out of Zeus' palace and back to his own. It was full of the strains of the Muses, echoing through the halls, buoying him lightly. Perhaps he should've asked Cyrene to stay a little longer, but she had little taste for lingering long around Olympos, and he was more fond of her wild pleasure than of keeping her close for his own sake. Besides...

It didn't take long to find what he was looking for, to soothe his own current disquiet. Among the echoing music and perfect, beautiful voices of his darling Muses, was one lone male voice. He found Hyacinthus and his mother sitting in a sunny court forming the center of a peristyle, the two partially shadowed by the myrtle bush that took up a large part of the middle of the court, a mosaic spiralling out around the bush.

Apollo paused in the doorway, mostly hidden in the shadows there, and just watched for a moment. Soaking up the knowledge that Hyacinthus was here, had been for a couple decades by now, and was not planning on going anywhere. It still felt like new and fragile knowledge, a gift that’d been impossible when it happened and liable to be taken away. It wouldn’t, he knew, and he wouldn’t let it, and the certainty lifted his dark mood some. Lifted it more seeing Leto sit there with her eyes closed, hands folded in her lap and a little smile on her face as she, too, listened to the song. Further yet listening to Hyacinthus' rich voice rising around the lyre's music, his long, clever fingers plucking out the tune with enough perfection it was as good as a prayer and sacrifice. 

He'd planned on going elsewhere, to be alone for a bit and only soak Hyacinthus’ presence up until he could face them all. 

Instead Apollo pushed off the doorway and crossed through the peristyle and out into the sunlight. Hyacinthus smiled when he saw him, but continued without stopping when Apollo gestured. It didn't take much thought to decide where to sit; had he felt more in need of it, or had Hyacinthus not been here at all, he would have sat by his mother's knees, rested his head in her lap. Instead he sprawled out next to Hyacinthus' legs, a foot brushing against one of Leto's as he folded his arms over Hyacinthus' lap, rested his head there and closed his eyes. After a couple minutes Artemis came wandering into the courtyard too, which meant the council meeting was over. Apollo didn't move or open his eyes, but he didn't do more than grunt when Artemis plopped down beside Leto, throwing her legs over his, and settled in too.

In the warm sunlight of this moment, Hyacinthus leaning over him to smile down, it was easy to pretend there was no necessary war at all. He just hoped Hebe and Zeus could offer Ganymede the same sort of illusion for as long as possible, as well.


End file.
